Looks Fragile After All
by Of Wolves And Dogs
Summary: It's not easy hiding a drug addiction problem in a precinct, and when two certain officers find out about Jayden's it goes all downhill from there. --Lit. Blake x Agent Jayden x Det. Ash--


**summary: **_It's not easy hiding a drug addiction problem in a precinct, and when two certain officers find out about Jayden's it goes all downhill from there. _

******rating: **'M' for mature audiences.

**pairing:** Lit. Blake **x** Agent Jayden **x** Det. Ash

**a/n: **_My rational? 'Why not'? Hee hee hee!_

**looks fragile after all**  
**written by:** of wolves and dogs  
_Lit. Blake x Agent Jayden x Det. Ash  
_

"_Have you been keeping secrets from me?  
Hoped I wouldn't find out and you'd just go free?  
There's a whole world outside your window pane  
And I've got scars to prove it but you should have known  
Run, you can run, you can run,  
We'll find you."_

"You Can Run, But We'll Find You" by Matchbook Romance

* * *

Headache. They always start out as headaches.

He began to rethink his longterm use of the ARI as he placed the glasses aside. Rubbing his temples, he kicked off his shoes and socks with experience as his eyes were closed and trying to focus on the pleasant feeling of fingers massaging his skull. He thought that being sent to Pennsylvania to solve the Origami Case would be an easy task. He already did his homework before he traveled and picked two prime suspects that fitted in the geographical distribution of the murders. Yet it seemed that these two suspects weren't their guy and he should have figured as much when he encountered them in person. They weren't methodical. They weren't exuding this sense of control. Instead they acted liked reasonably anyone else: frightened over the 'antichrist' and the fact the police were confronting them at their homes and on the streets.

Dammit! Who was it than?

This case was stressful and he found himself wearily tempted to use triptocaine on numerous of occasions. It was beginning to become a daily -- almost hourly occurrence under the stress of this unsolvable case. It frightened him to no end that he was beginning to become more dependent on it's fix. Usually hard alcohol could still the side effects of longterm use of the ARI, but alcohol was beginning to loose it's charm. He was developing a tolerance for it and if he drank any more, he would be lying in his room with alcohol poisoning. Although he wasn't quite sure if he preferred that or undergoing the painful consequences of relying on triptocaine... The barman warned him that he had to be careful. God! When the goddamn technology warns you to be careful, that has to say something! But the kids...what about this Shaun Mars?

There it was again... This stupid idea of being noble and sacrificing himself for the sake of others. Sometimes he wished he could just be selfish for once and just shrug his shoulders as if it wasn't his problem. Maybe his parents were right...maybe he should have became a lawyer. You can be selfish as much as you want and no one can bitch and moan about it. Why? Because it's your goddamn job to be a selfish prick.

_Knock! Knock! Knock! _

Norman frowned as he glanced at the distributed alarm clock in his hotel room, before turning his attention to the door. It was almost midnight. Who the heck was knocking on his door at this hour? Checking his cellphone in fear he might have missed an important call and this was the reason for the late night visit, he found only a blank screen. Frowning slightly at himself, he moved over to the door and pulled it open. Before Norman could even move his lips to form the words of protest and hostility, two abled bodies pushed past him into the hotel room.

"Mind if we come in, Norman?" a voice chuckled, a voice that Norman was honestly hoping to get a break from for at least a good four hours. Someone was honestly not looking out for him up above and he turned his head to glare dark looks at the last two people he wished to see in his hotel room at midnight. Hissing in discomfort, he eyed the hallway before closing the door in fear that if he tried to usher them out a scene would be caused. Last thing he needed was to be kicked out of his own hotel on his own free time. Leaning against the door, his eyes stared with gnawing suspicion at the two Philadelphia officers.

There was Lieutenant Blake grinning as if he just suckered punch a rather annoying moron and was now reaping in the 'feel good' vibe it gave him. Honestly, sometimes Jayden saw Blake as one massive dog. Step on his territory and expect to feel the brutal crunch of jaws on whatever limb it can get it's teeth on first. Rub the dog the right way, he'll become civil if not suspicious about it all. Toss him someone he can put blame on or instigate, expect the dog to be chasing after it as if it was meat. He just waiting -- god was Jayden waiting -- for someone to put a goddamn shock collar on this tyrant. Whoever trained Carter Blake obviously trained him the incorrect way because there was nothing lovable he saw in this brutal mutt. Than there was the mutt's trusted sidekick that towered over them both by a few inches with mussed hair and eyes of sleepy amber. It was like watching someone dip honey into his irises as the pupils struggled to regain their importance in the mesh of things. Norman saw nothing to complain about when it came to Detective Ash. The man seemed mild-mannered and was studious, not at all resorting to brutal tactics that Carter was excessively fond of. He wouldn't have been as upset about this late night meeting if it was just Ash by himself. But this seemingly harmless man was looking far from friendly at the moment. Lips were curled into a smirk and with the way the wiry male held himself he looked awfully like a fox with those narrow features of his. It was seeing that on Ash's face that made him have a gut feeling something was wrong.

He was in trouble. He could feel it. Like older siblings they were here to brag and gloat about it before actually doing the deed and ratting him out. It had to be something like that, right? Or...maybe they were just here to discuss something else about the case? A breakthrough, maybe? Why couldn't they just call than?

"Actually I do mind that you're here," Norman swallowed the lump in his throat as he slipped in-between them, aware of eyes boring down on him like sentinels. If they did try to pull something funny, it would be better if he could be closer to his gun. With Carter, he was never quite sure what the hell the man was going to do. "Is there...uh reason why you're here?" the agent asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence, trying to wrack through his head where the hell he placed the gun. Did he leave it by the bathroom counter again? Or did he leave it in it's holster by his suitcase?

"'Uh' yeah," Blake shot back with a mocking tone, Jayden realizing his movements were a bit too panicky to be seen as normal. Stilling himself, he turned his gaze to the two officers that remained where he left them. Ash was leaning against the wall with those golden eyes pinned on him, as Blake stared with critique at the room before releasing a sigh, "You see we have a problem... You see Jayden I hate it when things get in my way."

_Obviously, and you solve it with your aggression that acts as if it's hyped up on steroids. _

"Especially now when I can't deal with people fucking things up. Ever since your rich ass self came into the fucking precinct, things have been a bit screwy. Something's wrong with you, _Norman_. Coming out of the office looking as if you ran into a ghost? Than you're back on your feet, and than it happens fucking again. I thought it was just because you had a few screws knocked loose...but oh, do I know now," Blake finished, Jayden shifting uncomfortably at the pressuring gazes of both officers. They couldn't know about the triptocaine. Hell, they never even seen it before! So all again it was just theories and he was about to sigh out an excuse when Ash rose his hand and revealed a blue vile pinned between his index and middle finger.

"W-Where did you get that?"

Ash lightly tilted his head to the right as he switched his gaze over to Blake before turning it back to Jayden. "This one I got from your pocket just now," Ash explained, Jayden instantly patting his pockets to find the vile gone. "The other one," he revealed a twin from the one in his hand, "Is the one I snagged when you left out of the conference room before pursuing Mr. Williams."

Norman stood there in utter confusion as he stared at the two vials. He couldn't recall ever feeling Ash's prying hand. Later on that day he just assumed he left it in his suitcase by mistake, having forgotten to stick it in his pocket. He wouldn't dream of ever leaving it in the shitty office at the precinct in fear of rummaging curiosity from the other officers. It seemed _that _would have been his safe bet all along. Who would've known that Detective Ash could lead a life as a pickpocket. He should've known that Ash wasn't exactly innocent as he appeared. After all, he was Blake's partner. There had to be something going on with the detective for him to be able to coexist with that tyrant.

"What is it, Jayden? Drugs? Didn't take you as a druggie," Carter mused as Norman's eyes were still on the twin vials in the detective's hands.

"It's...medication, actually. Um...it calms my body down because I have a mild seizure disorder..." Norman stammered out, feeling like cornered prey as they weren't buying into the lie, "...and it just keeps it at bay..."

"Bullshit," Blake called out, "You know, Ash, I don't like it how he's lying to us about this. What do you think we should do?"

Ash ran his tongue across the bottom of the teeth on his upper jaw, a half-grin dancing on his face as he pocketed the vials of Jayden's poison. "I propose we give it to the Narcotics Unit. Let them have a go and see what the hell this is. It just might be medication as he says... But oh wouldn't it be something if it turned out to be something different. FBI would be running around with their heads up their asses for a year with this on the front page," Ash's gravely voice put out and to his ears it sounded like a death sentence. If they found out that he was taking a drug issued under the table from his superiors...he could find himself dead. Not just in the career sense but physically as well. They would do whatever was in their power to silence his trap, just make up a wild story that he was out of his mind and the drug was purely his own findings and doings.

Triptocaine was something for his eyes only. If the world found out about it, how would the FBI explain it's experimental products like the ARI and the need of this hushed up drug?

"That's what really pisses me off," Blake cut into Jayden's thoughts, the younger male staring fearfully at the two. He needed to figure out how to get the vials back from Ash and than shove the two out of his hotel room. Goddammit what he would do for his gun. "You see when the FBI sent you in, they assured us that with you the case will be solved. They pretty much called us incompetent fools for letting this case go on for so long. So when I found out about this shit, imagine my surprise to find out our little guardian angel is a goddamn junkie. It's insulting, actually. Calling us scum and than handing us scum. Real fuckin' rich."

Blake sighed as he lightly shrugged his shoulders as if he was doing the world a favor by taking care of this problem, "So I'm going to do what I think is right: confiscate them all." Ash moved from his spot, Jayden's eyes focusing on him as he slowly made his way toward him. His body tensed, ready to take down the taller male if the situation called for it, but it was all a ploy. Ash was nothing but distraction as he felt Blake's bruising grip on his wrist all of a sudden, the feel of cold steel being slapped onto his limb. Blinking dumbly, the agent stared in utter shock at the handcuff encircling his wrist. "Let's not do anything stupid here, _agent_," Blake murmured somewhere near his ear.

Beginning to be tugged to his right, he instantly struggled as instinct kicked in. He wasn't going to be cuffed and trapped that easily. His attempts were throttled when the heel of Ash's palm rammed into his nose, sending him staggering back as he cupped his nose with his free hand.

"What?" Ash asked when Blake shot him a sharp look, "I thought that constituted as 'stupid.'" A wry grin and a scratchy chuckle left the detective as he began to search the room, Jayden finding himself shoved toward the other end of the room. Staring at the windows that weeped rain from the outside, he found the other cuff secured to the desk as Blake took a seat on the metal desk. Sinking onto his knees, he stared in growing horror at the detective searching the room.

He was a sharp observer. He didn't tear the room apart like he usually saw officers do in crime scenes. He would stare at certain spots of the room, move forward and find the vials as if he knew exactly where they were. The FBI agent could only stare in awe and trepidation as the male began to find them with ease. It was as if there were invisible flags that stood rooted by each vial, and as each one was found he felt increasingly exposed.

This was going all wrong. This shouldn't be happening. How could he not realize he was being pick-pocketed!

"Y-You can't do this! This is theft!" Norman weakly spoke up, feeling that disgusting headache come back to him again in foreshadowing. _Come on...have some mercy on me. I don't need to be going through withdrawals right now. Just...wait until after they leave. _

"Right," Ash sighed as he stared at the bed, eyeing it before crouching down to lift the covers up, "Sorry for confiscating your drugs... Please don't call the cops." Such casual form of satirical behavior that Norman almost didn't catch it at first as he watched the man, a small glimmer of hope as the detective dropped the drooping covers with a small frown gracing his features. Tilting his head to the left like some sort of animal, amber eyes flickered toward the FBI agent as his hand snuck underneath the bed and pulled out another vial. Fuck. These were all places he hid them just in case room service rifled through his bag or something happened to the supply in his suitcase.

"So if you are going to call the cops... Whose number do you want? Ash's or mine?" Carter smirked from his perch on the desk, a chuckle escaping from the detective from across the room.

Norman shifted, tugging on the metal hold on his left wrist as he could feel blood drip freely from his nose. He prayed it was from the hit he received from Ash and not the withdrawals. Shit, where the hell did he put the ARI glasses? Tilting his head upward, his eyes glanced about worriedly to breathe a soft sigh in relief. They were untouched on the nightstand and he was grateful the detective wasn't interested in them whatsoever.

Licking his lips, tasting blood slip onto his lips, he hastily wiped his nose with his sleeve, trying to suppress the feeling of sheer panic. He wanted to scream. Cry. Breakdown. Throw a tantrum that would rival children everywhere. But he refused to do so...he couldn't do it in front of these two jackals. Fuck! They couldn't go around taking his things! Triptocaine was his choice -- well actually, it was highly advised he take it because of ARI -- and taking it was his choice. They couldn't take it away from him! It wasn't constitutional! What if he needed it? Like now? Just find some pity and leave at least one vial. Just one.

He winced slightly when a soft ringing began to occur in his ears, making him deaf to the sounds around him. He watched the two other men talk to each other, grins tugging on their lips that held no malicious intent in whatever conversation they were having. It was a foreign sight to see such lively expressions, and Norman was just fucking dandy happy he could make them feel that way. He was just absolutely thrilled that they were having a good ol' time while he was sitting here listening to this high pitch sound occurring in his head as a cold sweat began to break out.

This was torture. It had to be. There had to be something he could do to get them off his back. "I...please stop," he could barely hear his torn voice over that annoying ringing in his ears -- the sound of ear cells giving their swan song in this mass suicide -- yet the two other males heard him as clear as day. He could feel Carter's eyes pierce through his entire being at a below zero temperature, causing him to shudder as he could feel his mouth go dry. "I...have money," he croaked out, inwardly scowling at himself for sounding so pathetic.

A hand grasped him by his collar and pulled him up from the floor and onto the chair. "Don't fucking insult us, Norman," Carter warned, the cuff latched to the leg of the desk clinking against the metal like wind chimes. "Someone needs to give you a taste of some goddamn humiliation." The words managed to bite through the noise amplified in his skull, and he wondered idly if he made a mistake being aggressive in the conference meeting. Actually, ever since he stepped into Pennsylvania he was met with hostility and tension. Maybe the finding of triptocaine was the straw that broke the camel's back?

Eyes turned nervously to the approaching detective from the bathroom, giving a rather satisfied look as he held the last vial in his hand. He wished the goddamn ringing in his head would stop for at least five minutes so he could properly hear what the two were murmuring about. Ash gave a slow nod as a frown was growing on his face, before giving a look of repulse as he jabbed his finger into Blake's chest. Jayden was waiting for Blake to grab Ash's hand and break it, but it never happened. Instead Blake continued on with whatever he was saying, a rather startled look dancing on Ash's face before sinking into one of shame. Whatever Blake was trying to convince Ash to do, his message was put across because he was now nodding in agreement as he began to loosen his tie.

Oh great. They were going to kill him. Ash was the only one not wholly into it but now it was too late, the detective was convinced. God...who the hell would care if he became nonexistent? Or missing? Lying in some junkyard to continue to rot? All the FBI would do is hush the entire dilemma up, scavenge what they can of his possessions, and call it a day. He wasn't a senior agent. He wasn't _that _important. Whether he was alive or not, the two officers before him could easily sell the triptocaine for a shit load of money or sell out the FBI. The possibilities of naught was overwhelming and knowing he probably was going to die made him only more sick to his stomach.

Closing his eyes as he could feel his vision begin to waver, he could feel his heart beat a wild tattoo against his chest. He could hear someone saying something in his ear and he registered it as Blake's voice, but to his ears the words were slurred together into a jumble of sounds and letters. A cool breeze caressed his face, nipping at exposed skin that made goosebumps dance on arms and legs. Eyes flashed open and he stared in alarm at his scenery. Massive trees stood like natural guards as their burnt copper leaves clung onto the dark branches unsuccessfully. He could smell the earth all around him as it tried to soothe his wired senses, but it only caused him to grow more panicked. Shit. He needed the triptocaine now!

Turning his eyes away from the trees, thighs pressing together at the onslaught of the cool temperature around him, he felt his breath hitch in his throat. He numbly realized that his pants were missing as were his boxers, and he struggled to find out the reason this was so. Glancing about like a lost child in a supermarket, his eyes found Carter first...or at least what he assumed was Carter. He resumed his seat on top of the desk, those flashing blue eyes of his eyes now fully the hue of electric blue and covering the expanse of his eyes. Whenever he turned his head or moved, the color would run after the eyes as if it wasn't quite sure what to do, leaving streaks of the hue in it's wake. It was as if his hallucinations weren't truly sure how to comprehend the fact that there were actual people in it's wake, and it fumbled about with itself as images were blurred than sharply in focus.

Jerking his head away from Carter, he found his partner approaching him with fluid strides. The detective's eyes were the same as Carter's, only now a muddy shade of gold as the right eye flickered like a lightbulb about to go out. Norman shifted in the cold seat underneath him, embarrassment gripping him at his half-naked state and the fact so many eyes were upon him. Yet it was not enough to overpower the edgy sensation running through his system as he stared at the now looming detective. His shirt was gone and a brief glance at the room behind him did not help him pinpoint where the man's blazer was with the sleeping vials of triptocaine. Too many goddamn leaves were swirling about as a breeze played with the trees' debris. Licking his lips, feeling his body tremble he turned his gaze back at the detective.

Scars that littered his chest were amplified in his hallucinating state, making them shine with this pale, incandescent light. He saw a gruesome show of battle scars acquired from god knows what, and it made him come to a sinking realization that these men were his seniors in experience. They have seen far more terrible things than he could even imagine and that only managed to scare him even more. Screw the fact that the sympathetic smile Ash was giving him was revealing teeth that belonged to some vicious animal or the fact he could hear the call of birds somewhere in the distant. The fact that they have seen things in an uglier state than he has ever before witnessed, only meant that whatever happens to them or their actions onto others do not hold any shock whatsoever. Not once has he noticed Ash flinch or voice his protest whenever Blake got violent or out of hand. Instead he rather sat there with a 'are we done yet?' expression, as the chaos ensued. He didn't even want to _think _of what --

Whatever panic-stricken thought that was running through his head instantly vanished as he felt himself plunged out of the warm-colored forest, his body jerking forward as something incredibly soft tickled the inside of his thighs. Eyes turned downward to find that in his diluted state, a body had made its way right between his legs to leave feather-soft kisses against his now heated skin. A furious blush managed to work it's way on his face at the very close proximity of those lips to a certain vital organ. Struggling to swallow the lump in his throat so he could issue out a very harsh protest, lips ghosted over the side of the limp organ and it took everything in him to remember how to breathe.

It was surprisingly...arousing. Everything in his entire being screamed in pure embarrassment and shame. Screaming at him for being so stupid and letting this entire event get so out of control. It berated him. Hissed out vulgarities at him. Right now it advised him to use his free hand and choke the detective right in front of him. Or kick him in the balls -- something! He wanted to toss himself into the hallucinations and the other symptoms of his withdrawals and the effects of the ARI... But they weren't coming. His body was rather warm and flushed, not a pasty white and sweating as if he just saw a ghost. He should be getting nosebleeds. Losing his sense of vision where things become doubled and hazy. Where was the ringing in his ears?

For once he was stuck in reality and it was by far the scariest sensation in the world.

So if the withdrawals weren't currently controlling him, than why the hell wasn't he doing something to stop? A small voice said it was 'curiosity,' but he knew it wasn't that. All he could say for a fact was that the feel of a tongue running across the side of his shaft made him give a fluttering moan. Norman felt himself part his legs further, feeling his entire being ricochet in physical pleasure as he could feel himself beginning to get hard.

For once...he was happy that Ash was observant. The man was gauging his actions using Jayden's reactions. Licking the underside of the now stiffened shaft left the agent squirming and mewling for more, Ash forced to grip Jayden's hips in control as they would buck eagerly. Flicking his tongue against the tip before taking it into the furnace of his mouth made Jayden swoon from where he sat, his hand jerking out from it's dormant state to weave itself into the russet-haired officer's locks. He thrusted his hips pleadingly into the man's mouth, frustrated that iron grip on his hip kept his motions under the detective's control. Tossing his head back when he felt fingers massage the swath of skin between his testicles and anus, he moaned wantonly at the pleasure shock rippling through his entire body.

Than it was gone.

Fingers pried Norman's out of his hair as he pulled back, instant protest leaving his lips as a smirk darted on the detective's lips. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he placed a sardonic kiss beneath the man's navel before standing to full height, leaving Norman half way started and half way finished. The atmosphere in the room contrasted to the temperature throbbing on degrees of his beating organ in his lap. It made him shudder and squirm as the air kissed wet flesh, shooting a rather heated stare at the detective. It was when Carter entered his line of vision did he feel his heart stumble over itself -- missing beats and trying to make up for the loss by quickening it's pace.

He nearly forgotten about the voyeuristic display from the lieutenant, and being reminded he was watched by the ringleader of this escapade made a deep sense of shame grip him. What the fuck was he doing! Was he out of his mind! He couldn't remember drinking when he reached the room after work. He had to be slightly drunk somehow...or...had something spiked. Maybe it was that disgusting coffee he had at the precinct? Shit, that coffee tasted like something mighty foul. Yet despite all of these thoughts and running excuses, it didn't overpower the pulsing organ that screamed for attention.

Blake eyed him with curiosity before turning his attention to the detective, a hot anger washing over Jayden by how his presence was easily pushed aside. _Listen to yourself, Norman. Really? _He hissed knowingly, hating himself for it all but...humans are humans, animals are animals, and humans are animals. It was the double-edged sword of life. Or some sort of Catch-22, where in the end -- to put in simple and comprehendible terms -- you're fucked either way. Whether you click A or you click B for a certain reaction, both answers will eventually lead you to X.

As Norman watched with growing pain and agony as he craved for attention -- for touch, he found himself falling back to the cravings of triptocaine. Of it's quick and easy solution. Now that always lead him to 'X.' Either you take the drug and feel good...expecting to feel the brutal consequences in the end. Or you wait, feel as if every single cell in your body turned against you and began to gnaw on your insides like fleas or termites...expect to feel the brutal consequences on a daily basis...but you live longer. Both options lead to 'X': consequences will get you either way, no matter what.

A hand tugged at the waistband of the detective's slacks, fingers making fast work of disrobing the russet-haired male. Lean legs merely stepped out of the clothing, taking this all with stride as he gave a soft exhale of air. Norman twitched with discomfort as his insides boiled and churned, his lower half flushed with realized neglect. Carter put attention toward his partner, calloused hand taking ahold of the half-hard organ before doing the detective a favor and jerking him off. It made Norman feel as if he was fifteen again, watching porn on late night television and too scared to jack off in fear that the minute he started would be the minute he would be caught. It's faster to change a channel than to hide a rather protruding event you're attending in your underwear. He felt the same right now. Lamenting over the fact that he could do nothing and even trying to do the deed himself lost it's spark and charm. It was as if his body formed a tolerance over his own hand and demanded much more just like when it came to him and alcohol. His pleas for attention fell on deaf ears...or so he assumed at first.

Ash leaned forward, Blake tilting his head expectantly as the fox-like male murmured something into his ear through a heated gasp. Blake drew back, a smirk on his face as those savage blue eyes turned to look at the cuffed male. They laughed. It made him squirm in embarrassment and humiliation as their laughter became reality's harsh slap in the face. It reminded him that these two officers were not here for entertainment pleasure only. It reminded him that they took away something important from him and threatened his career -- his life! Now they laughed at him. Laughed at the pitiful state he was in, like a drug addict needing his next fix to properly function as a human being. They were like two hyenas getting a kick out of his misfortune and taking advantage out of his state. It wasn't about an expression of sexuality or some sort of pent up sexual frustration. This was about how many ways can we deface a man. So far they have taken away his poison and now his dignity.

Perhaps they weren't always like this. Maybe once upon a time there was more depth into their personalities than the monsters they are today. They were scars of previous men inflicting wounds on a becoming scar. A wound cannot be a wound until you scratch the scab and peel it's crusty surface off. Norman felt like that scab as he sat there, watching as Carter moved to the detective's side as a guttural grunt left his lips as his seed spilled onto the lieutenant's hand.

"Here's my rational, Norman," Blake began as Ash recomposed self, panting quietly as he moved over to his strewn clothing. Fishing out a small key, he padded over to the agent who felt his body perk up at the approaching man. Watching him crouch down next to him, his hand lunged out and grabbed the man's arm. The man only shot him a sly look that spoke volumes as he unlocked the cuffs, Norman tearing his wrist out of them the minute they loosened. "You treat us like incompetent fucks because that's how you see us as. You being all-knowing and pompous, apparently. If you're such a fuckin' whore for these drugs, I might as well treat you as one. Simple fuckin' logic, eh?"

He did seem them as idiots...incompetent in one form or another. Two years and still no killer? Still no specific clues? How was the even possible! The minute he stepped in he supplied more information and background than they could even pull up in two years. It was embarrassing...so he treated them with as much civility he could muster and nothing more. This however...was just too out of hand for his tastes.

Before his brain could kick in and tell him to take this chance to run, Ash's hand found the pressure points with goddamn ease on the back of his neck. When he tried to bolt or resist, pressure was applied as he felt his nerves suddenly catch on fire in the most unpleasant of ways. Shoved onto the bed, he turned hastily so his back was to the bed, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden. The detective already had him pinned with a hand warningly on his neck, Jayden grudgingly keeping still as the male adjusted himself in a seating position at the head of the bed.

Turning his head upward he gave the detective a heated look, staring at the upside down image of the looming man who responded with a chuckle. Before Norman could hiss out venomous words, feeling awfully betrayed the man had and still was tugging him about like a rag doll, hands viciously pried the agent's legs apart. The warning hand on his neck vanished and found Norman's hands before the man could do whatever it would take to get the menacing Carter Blake off of him. Ash he could deal with. Blake...it was like claiming he could deal with an iron beast.

Blake was something entirely different -- completely inhuman yet wearing the face of one. It was like shooting down Ego and Superego, and leaving Id to run the show. It was like watching gasoline being set on fire, consuming anything it can get it's smoldering teeth on to only consume it into larger flames. It was like watching a dog bite the hand that feeds it when it's full. Blake was a time bomb he didn't want to truly go up against.

"I just don't understand you, Norman," the man growled out, body of hardened muscles and scarred tissue out for display. Another testament that in the grand scheme of things this was nothing noteworthy or memorable. It wouldn't become a scar to look at years later, it would be a memory to be forgotten in week's time. "You talk as if you can back your shit up... Whole entire asshole FBI agent routine as you hide your little drug problems in that office," Blake cooed out, the words stinging Jayden's pride only to be instantly forgotten again when a finger intruded a forbidden place. He harshly inhaled the air about him as he fidgeted at the intrusion, feeling soft whimpers of pain as a second digit was added. He could feel himself being stretched and he made noises of discomfort until those digits curled in a 'come hither' motion inside of him. Whatever discomfort he felt before faded into sporadic pleasure as fingers slicked previously from Ash moved against sensitive tissue and underlying nerves.

"In the end though...you're fragile as you fuckin' look."

Giving a low whine when fingers left him, a snigger from the peanut gallery made his cheeks heat up. Opening his eyes, giving a harden stare at the lieutenant as he felt a hand grasp the underside of his thigh and adjust him, he released a growl as he ignored the synchronized throbbing of his entire being. "Fuck you. Your badges will be gone and than we'll see who's fragile -- " Norman spat out, schooling himself to get a fucking grip and resist. So he fought at his hold, a hiss in annoyance leaving the detective as he could feel the grip on his thigh immediately tighten into a deadly grip. Already he could feel the bruises beginning to form on his thigh as he knew for a fact that the bruises on his wrists from Ash were already formed.

Resistance came to a momentary standstill when he felt Carter forcefully shove himself into him, sending his body into a rigid state. "What, Norman? I can't hear you?" the lieutenant taunted as he pushed himself deeper, not at all waiting for the agent to adjust. Norman tried to shift and relieve the pressing spasm of pain filling his lower half, his body completely at odds with itself as it tried to understand this foreign intrusion. He prayed that the searing sensation of getting a third degree burn would stop, but it continued as he could feel nerves and sensitive tissue being assaulted. "Didn't know FBI hired druggies," the man grunted out, making Norman internally scowl at himself. Every threat he could give to them was useless because the fact they found and confiscated the triptocaine was higher in importance in the eyes of all. Words were useless and he was a man who used reason to his advantage...but it seems reason can never outweigh the truth of this situation.

The only sound he could register in his mind was his own. He listened to himself whimper in pain as he could feel tears slipping down the side of his face. He listened to himself struggle to breathe properly instead of choking on his own air in becoming hysteria. He refused to open his eyes. Ignorance is bliss, right? If he can at least keep his eyes close and not observe the scene, he was certain it wouldn't be as painful. Yet it was...it felt like someone set his insides on fire and refused to put the fire out. He shifted his hips as if he could somehow edge away from the sensation when he felt a bundle of nerves properly hit.

Norman wasn't sure if this was his hallucinations acting up again, but he swore he saw stars. "Holy shit," he felt himself gasp as the same spot was hit again, making him writhe in indulgence. The pace became reckless and Norman was able to excuse the soft throbs of pain when he felt that magic spot each and every time. He melted into a mess of moans as he arched his body into each of the thrusts, his hands twitching in annoyance that they were incapable of grabbing onto anything. He needed normalcy out of this. Something he can focus on save for the absurd fact that this was happening right now, because right now crying out for Carter to 'fuck him harder' was not reading 'normal.'

Twisting his left wrist in it's grasp, it was a matter of seconds before he weaseled it out of it's grip. His hand slingshotted out and grasped the back of Carter's neck, tugging him closer to him as he could feel Carter's surprisingly cool skin rest against Norman's scorching flesh. The agent's lips lunging at the lieutenant's, finding them with sloppy ease. A growl in warning escaped the back of the older male's throat, and it acted as much as a dog would when under a headlock by a persistent owner: trying to slide out of the hold and avoid the intimacy wanted out of the other. Norman responded by furrowing his brows and biting the man's lower lip, resulting in a harsh kiss to the point where the lieutenant's teeth grazed his own, leaving the agent gasping for breath when it broke. Relaxing his grip as he tried to gain his breathing, he felt teeth tear at the side of his throat and his collarbone that left torn between the stinging pain being distributed and the steady onslaught of pleasure down below. Sick of the enclosed space he was given, hands tore the shirt clinging not to Norman with wild ease, buttons retched free and broken.

When teeth scraped against an erect nipple, he twisted and purred in pleasure as his hand reached out blindly. Fingers finding mussed locks of hair that belonged to Ash lead to him weaving his fingers through them before yanking him down, earning a yelp in surprise to be silenced by desperate lips on his own. While Blake wanted nothing to do with such a sensitive display, Ash was a bit more willing to comply. His hand slid to the back of the man's neck as the other gripped the side of his face, relishing in this sense of normalcy in this event he was planning on denying ever once feeling willing or compliant.

It didn't take him long to ejaculate, gripping the back of the detective's neck fiercely as nonexistent nails dug into flesh. A drawn out moan left his lips, muffled by the mouth on his own. Breaking away to catch his breath, earthquakes of pleasure continued to assault him as the lieutenant's pelvis slammed into him, bones vibrating at the impact. With an animalistic growl that rumbled in the officer's chest, hot liquid seared Norman's insides as his muscles clenched at the intensity of the heat.

So this was it felt like to be on the receiving end. To have the police come into _your_ home. To have your greatest downfall and sweet poison taken from _you_. To be cuffed. To be squirming underneath the will of another... It was bittersweet with a rancid stench of rotting morals.

Lips left his, allowing him to pant in the heated afterglow as his body just basked in the surplus of oxytocin and attention it was given all at once. Staring blankly at the ceiling, his mind hastily began to click on and concoct an excuse as to how he could feel downright filthy yet pleased. Logic said that sex helped reduce the effects of the withdrawals due to oxytocin and the release of endorphins. These chemicals worked together to calm him from the withdrawals -- like triptocaine without the dire, death endangering consequences. Ego, however, claimed he was a sad piece of shit of a man. To have given up halfway through and act as if there was nothing wrong with the process. It scolded him and reprimanded him by bringing reality to his afterglow state. There was nothing pleasant about this all, it reminded him harshly.

Pushing himself up, he found that the two other officers had cleaned themselves off with the sheets and were slipping on their clothes. Ash was the first to finish getting dressed, stretching his arms as he lightly scratched the side of his neck. "Beer? My place?" the detective mused as he dropped his arms, scanning to see if he left anything before shrugging his shoulders.

"Only if I get to use your shower."

"Sounds good to me."

There was something about how casual they acted afterward that made him feel sick to his stomach. He would have preferred if they just snuck out of the hotel like dogs with their tails between their legs. Instead they spoke to each other with nonchalance and nothing more, making him realize that his worth was nonexistent at the moment. They managed to tear every single fiber of pride out of his system and burn it right in front of his eyes.

He wanted them gone_ now_.

Carter cracked his neck as he smirked at the frowning agent, chuckling under his breath as he moved over to the door with Ash in tow, a great sense of inflamed shame creeping over Norman's bare body. Seeing them make their leave, the agent slid off of the bed and moved to the door before them, pulling it open for them. He wanted to make sure the minute they exited the room he could slam the door and lock every damn lock on the fucking slab of wood.

Norman heaved out a shaky sigh as the door opened, feeling gentle waves of relief fall upon his traumatized mental state that was trying to remain calm. He didn't even want to attempt to wrap his mind around what just happened. He stood by the door, eagerly waiting to close it after them so he could finally release the wound up stress in his chest. The agent wanted to breakdown and scream at the empty room. To burn everything they touched. He was so ashamed he responded so willingly and in front of two people who held his dirty secret in their hands. _Jesus fucking Christ...what the hell is wrong with me? _He didn't even want to turn his thoughts to what was going to happen with his triptocaine. Yeah so they would keep it hushed up for now and hold it over his head...but it was just a matter of time before all hell broke loose.

"Sleep well, _Norman_," Blake grinned as he pushed past the agent, in the process shoving the agent out of the safe confines (if it could be considered 'safe' anymore) of his room and now at the foot of the door. "Try not to do anything illegal, hmm? Wouldn't want to come back here again," the lieutenant sniggered as he made his way toward the elevators. Jayden frowned deeply and nothing more, feeling his cheeks flush in embarrassment as his mind began to replay everything that happened tonight.

"Be good, Jayden," Ash's breath tickled his ear, Jayden instinctively pressing himself against the wall. Something cool was placed in his hand and when he looked down he found one single vial, and he looked at it as if someone offered him water after being stranded in the desert. Giving a grateful look at the detective, he was given a gentle smile and nothing more as the detective quickened his pace to enter the elevator after Blake. All he could hear as the doors closed was hysterical laughter and Jayden didn't care. They could laugh all they want, but he at least had one vial. He just had to be smart about it, that's all. Maybe he could persuade Ash to give him some more if he played his cards right. Mulling this over, he turned to quickly head back into the room when his nose hit the door. Hissing at the sharp pain, he looked at the closed door of his room. A room that required a key. A key that was in his room. Heated embarrassment turned his skin a nice shade of red as he realized his predicament.

They sure did know how to strip a man out of his worth and everything in his possession.

Now how the hell was he supposed to explain this to the front desk!

* * *

**Captain Perry says**_, "Welcome to the club, Jayden!"  
Err, I mean, **"**Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review**!" **_

**notes: **

**_* _**_When Blake goes after Ethan...Jayden just sits there in the car, stands around like a dumbass saying nothing! Now you know why. PEACE! Nah, nah...well, maybe... Honestly, I was surprised no one has done a threesome yet...or I just wasn't aware one existed. Well...this is purely for that reason... Har har har har! Dirty, dirty, dirty me. It happens. PEACE!_

*** P.S. **_Norman thinks this is the worst club EVER!_


End file.
